


It Must Have Been Moonglow

by ssclassof56



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: 1930s, 1930s fashion, 1930s film, 1930s romantic fiction, F/M, Kissing, New York City, Older Man/Younger Woman, Pre-Code, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Smoking, Turner Classic Movies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:15:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27714620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssclassof56/pseuds/ssclassof56
Summary: This original story is an homage to Pre-Code romantic comedies. See the end notes for my dream cast.Warner Bros. Pictures, Inc. & The Vitaphone CorrPresentIT MUST HAVE BEEN MOONGLOWA First National PictureCopyright MCMXXXIV
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Kudos: 2





	It Must Have Been Moonglow

“Good evening, Mr. Bradley,” the austere manservant intoned as he took his employer’s hat. The patrician head beneath it was silvered, but the brows and mustache were dark, the skin unlined. “How was the banquet?”

“Very much like every other Directors’ Dinner, Farrell.” 

“My condolences.”

Jonathan Bradley expelled a resigned breath. “I shouldn’t complain. Men who are profligate in their behavior would likely be so with the bank’s deposits.”

“Very true, sir.”

Jonathan’s dark eyes twinkled wryly. “Besides, they’re probably saying similar things about me.”

A hint of amusement appeared briefly in Farrell’s aloof features. “That reminds me, sir. Mr. Richard wants you to know that he’s bringing ‘the gang’ over.” 

“Is that all?”

Farrell cleared his throat. “And if you dare go to bed before meeting them, he’ll cut you off without a cent.”

Jonathan chuckled. “All right, Farrell. I won’t retire just yet. There’s some reports I can go over.”

“Very good, sir. Shall I bring coffee to the study?”

“Yes, thank you.” He strode across the front hall, then paused at the foot of the staircase. “Did Mrs. Farrell make those canapés Richard likes so much?”

“She did. There’s a plate set aside for you.”

“Excellent,” he said and began climbing the stairs with quick, light steps. “After that, you can go to bed. Whatever else my son may need, he can get for himself.” 

<>-<>-<>

By the time the group of taxis had left in search of other fares, the once quiet sidewalk was strewn with stylishly dressed young men and women, talking and laughing with little regard for the late hour.

A champagne blonde in polka dot chiffon checked her face in her compact. “I still think you’re a fool for turning down a ride in Rudy’s new roadster.”

“You know what he’s like,” replied the willowy blonde beside her.

“A little petting never hurt anyone.”

Alice frowned in distaste. “He has sweaty palms.”

“So he’s damp.” Gladys dropped the compact into her handbag and shut the clasp with a snap. “Tell him to wear his driving gloves.”

“Oh, Gladdy.” Alice laughed and shook her head.

“I’m serious. You can’t shy away from life. You gotta grab it with both hands.”

“Let it grab you, you mean.”

They joined the line of convivial socialites trickling through the front door of an elegant townhouse. At the base of the steps, Gladys pointed her thumb at a pert-nosed brunette staring up at the façade. “Get her. You’d think she’d never seen architecture before.” She tapped the underside of the sagging chin and said without malice, “Close your mouth, dear. You’ll catch flies.”

Connie blushed. “Gee, I still can’t believe we’re going to Dick Bradley’s actual home.”

“Well, it’s no fraternity house, but an All-American has to live somewhere.”

Alice squeezed Connie’s arm. “I know how you feel. I never imagined we’d see Dick again after he graduated. Now he’s invited us out three times.”

“And you tried to stop me from waving him over that day,” Gladys said as they entered the vestibule.

“I don’t think the Ritz is accustomed to people ‘yoo-hoo’-ing across the dining room,” Alice responded laughingly, “but it got the job done.”

Once inside, Alice shed her wrap and looked with interest around the paneled front hall. Richard stood in a doorway at the other end. He smiled when he spotted them and headed over. Alice waved back, the gesture freezing in midair as she saw the older man who remained behind. He was handsome and distinguished, equal to Richard in height, with a similar air of vigor and purpose. Her hand, trembling slightly, moved to her flushed cheek. 

“I feel as if I could faint,” Connie whispered beside her. “Wouldn’t that be too awful?”

Alice swallowed. The man in the doorway turned toward them. She forced her attention onto Richard as he welcomed them to his home. Pasting a smile onto her lips, she whispered, “Buck up, Con. I may need you to catch me.”

<>-<>-<>

Jonathan was seated behind his desk, an empty plate and coffee cup at his elbow, when a knock sounded at the door.

“Pop, you decent?”

Jonathan smoothed the front of his smoking jacket. “Yes, son. Come in.”

Richard entered the study, tossing his top hat onto a marble bust with practiced ease. Beneath his wavy hair, a pair of lively blue eyes twinkled with amusement, and a ready smile lit his boyish face. “I see Farrell gave you my message.”

“Had I known you were going to be this late, I’d have risked disinheritance.”

Richard picked up a file from the desk. “You should lay off these pulp magazines. They’ll corrupt your morals.”

“A pulp?” Rudy stepped out from behind Richard and took the report from his hand. His face fell. “Why get my hopes up?”

“You remember Rudy McAlister, don’t you, Pop?”

Jonathan stood and shook hands with his son’s shorter, stouter friend. “Fraternity brothers, weren’t you?”

Rudy clapped Richard on the shoulder. “The finest pledge Sig Alpha ever had. He could rattle off names like nobody’s business, backwards and forwards. And my suits haven’t been as well pressed since.”

Jonathan grasped the lapels of his smoking jacket. “Of all Richard’s collegiate achievements, those are the ones of which I’m proudest.”

Richard laughed. “Didn’t I tell you he was a good egg? Dishes it as well as he takes it.”

The doorbell sounded.

“Here they are,” Rudy said and trotted back to the front hall.

“Come on out, Pop,” Richard urged. “I want to introduce you.”

“Certainly, son, though I believe I’ve met most of your friends at one time or another.”

“Ah, but our merry band has expanded. Dear old Winfield just unleashed another class on an unsuspecting world. Wait til you see these girls. They’re pips.”

Jonathan paused, frowning slightly. “Richard, this isn’t a beauty contest.”

“Oh, Pop,” Richard said in mock dismay. He wrapped an arm around his father’s shoulders and ushered him to the door. “Get your nose out of a ledger, and enjoy some of the world’s natural wonders.” 

Rudy stood at the vestibule, his arms full of evening wraps, a tower of silk hats teetering on his head. “We’re not responsible for garment contents or articles left overnight,” he said in sing-song tones.

Richard strode across the hall to join him. “Welcome to Maison Bradley, hottest night spot in town.”

Gladys laid a velvet wrap in Rudy’s arms. “Where’s my ticket?”

“Where’s my tip?”

She patted his cheek. “Here’s one. Odorono works on hands as well.”

Rudy made a face. “Catch,” he said and jerked his arms. Gladys scrambled to intercept the pile of wraps before they hit the floor.

Jonathan lingered in the study doorway, exchanging polite greetings with the succession of young people as they headed for the living room. He turned his gaze to his son, and his cordial smile faltered. His eyes widened as they fixed on a tall, lissome blonde in a gown of floral organza. Deep frills descended from the wide neckline and down the sides of the slim skirt, fluttering gracefully with her every move. Richard welcomed her with enthusiasm. Jonathan swallowed. His shoulders straightened, and his hands tugged his smoking jacket down more smoothly over his trim figure.

Richard returned with the blonde vision on one arm and a lovely brunette on the other. “Pop, meet three of the prettiest girls New York ever saw. Alice Williams, Connie Simpson, and Gladys Elliot. Girls, meet the man responsible for my excessive charm and good looks.”

Jonathan’s dark eyes met Alice’s brown ones. He cleared his throat. “How do you do?” he said, his voice gruff. He dragged his gaze over to the others, and seeing Gladys’s laden arms, hastily took the wraps from her. “Here, let me. Richard, it’s a poor host who lets his guest carry these.”

Richard flapped his elbows. “My arms are already full.”

Rudy appeared behind them, balancing the stack of hats on his head, with several others wobbling on the walking sticks in his hands. “Make way for the floor show, kids,” he said.

“Come on, Pop. We’ll drop these things on the table.” 

As Richard steered Alice and Connie into the dining room, Jonathan offered his elbow to Gladys, who took it with a smile. “Are you joining us tonight, Mr. Bradley?” she asked.

“No, no. This is a young persons’ party.”

“Oh, won’t you at least stay for a couple of dances?”

“Gladys’s right,” Richard said. “Cut a rug with us.”

Jonathan’s eyes darted to Alice, who was busily transferring Rudy’s accessories to the dining table. “No, really, I can’t. I have a meeting to prepare for.”

Gladys took a fur capelet from his arms and draped it over a chair. As Jonathan laid the remaining pile on the table, a hand brushed against his. “Pardon me,” he said brusquely.

Alice’s gaze met his, then fell quickly away. She righted the hat which had slipped from her fingers. “That’s all right.” Her voice was soft and pleasant. 

A Duke Ellington record spun to life, and a freckled young man poked his head in from the living room. “Hey, what’s the hold up? I’m short a partner in here.” 

“Sorry, Sam,” Alice said with a breathless giggle. Abandoning Rudy and his hats, she disappeared into the other room. Richard swung Connie into his arms and followed after her. 

Rudy looked up at the hats stacked on his head. “I wonder if I could dance without dropping these stovepipes.”

Gladys removed the tower and set it on a chair. “You’ve got enough to concentrate on just staying off my toes.”

He shrugged and took her into his arms. “Not everyone can be Fred Astaire.”

She patted his shoulder as he danced her into the next room. “You’re not even Fred Allen.”

Jonathan remained in the dining room alone, staring down at the top hat that rested beside a satin coatee. He ran the back of his hand over his lips, then turned abruptly and went to his study. The report he took from the desk was soon tossed aside. After pacing restlessly, he poured a drink from a decanter on the side table. “Don’t be a darn fool,” he said sternly and drained the glass.

<>-<>-<>

Richard tangoed Alice playfully across the living room. “Long distance. New York calling.”

“Hmm?”

“You were a million miles away.”

Alice met his amused gaze and smiled ruefully. “Was I? I’m sorry.”

“Must be a nice place.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You have sort of a glow about you.”

She blushed. “It’s those cocktails you mixed for me. I should have known better than to have two. You were cackling away like a mad scientist.”

He cackled again. “I’ll call it a Neon Lady. It lights you up from the inside.”

Richard tipped her back dramatically and stole a quick kiss.

“What was that for?” she asked as he pulled her up.

“That’s my way of telling you I’m glad you’re back from school.” He pressed his cheek to hers. “Say, do you remember the Spring Fling?”

“I do. It was a grand evening.”

“Afterwards we all snuck into the alumni garden and played Ghost in the Graveyard.”

“With kisses for forfeits.” Alice laughed. “Even when Prof. Hargraves caught you hiding in a crape myrtle.”

“Rules are rules. I think she enjoyed that kiss too. I should’ve gotten ten demerits, but she never turned me in.” He dipped Alice again. “Why didn’t we go to another dance together?”

“As I recall, Connie transferred in the next semester. You were a self-designated welcoming committee.”

“Anything for dear old Winfield.” He smiled unabashedly. “Sounds like we’ve got catching up to do.”

The record ended. As someone started the other side, Richard took Alice into his arms again. 

“Oh, no,” she said, stepping back. “Another dance like that, and I’ll need an osteopath.”

Richard tugged his earlobe thoughtfully. “I don’t know any, but Rudy has his own version of the chiropractic art.”

They moved aside to make way for the other dancers. Richard took a box from the mantelpiece and offered Alice a cigarette. Shaking her head, she looked at the line of framed photographs that stretched along the marble shelf. “This must be your mother.” She pointed to a wedding photo, where an Edwardian bride sat proud and erect in an armless chair. “You favor her.”

Richard nodded. He flung his match into the cold hearth and exhaled a plume of smoke. “Only I don’t wear my hair quite so high.” 

Alice looked at the young man in the picture standing beside his new wife. His dark hair was prematurely streaked with gray. “Your father seems…nice.”

“Thank you. I did a good job raising him, if I do say so myself.”

Alice smiled and ran a finger along the silver frame. “Early to bed. Not too many sweets.”

“And a bath every Saturday.” 

She joined his laughter. “I think she’d be very proud of how you both turned out.”

“I like to think so.”

“You and your father get along well?” she asked, tearing her eyes from a photo of Jonathan Bradley in his shirtsleeves looking every bit the college athlete.

“Sure, we’re the best of pals. For as long as I can remember, it’s been just me and Pop.” He rested his shoulders against the mantel. “I’ve been thinking lately that it’s high time we did something about that. What this place needs is the feminine touch.”

“Flowers and lace?”

He shook his head. “Satin and perfume. You know, something along more modern lines. After all, I won’t be around forever. Somebody must be here to remind Pop to scrub behind his ears.”

Alice looked over his shoulder at a picture of Richard in his mortarboard, his father beside him. “And tuck him in at night,” she added, her cheeks coloring.

He winked. “I wouldn’t mind someone like that myself.”

A frightened squeal drew their attention to the French doors. Connie ran in from the terrace and threw herself onto Richard’s chest. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “What’s the matter, moon of my delight?”

She looked up at him, eyes wide. “Is this house really haunted?”

“My house? Not unless you count Farrell checking the locks in his nightshirt.”

“Rudy said there’s a Revolutionary soldier buried in the garden, and he comes out on a full moon.”

“Been trying that old gag, has he?” Richard squeezed her tighter. “It’s just a ploy to get his arms around you.”

Rudy approached them, laughing. “Yet she ended up in yours. I must have told it wrong.”

“So there’s no ghost?” Connie asked.

Richard looked at Alice and gave her a wink. “There could be.”

Rudy rubbed his hands together, eyes gleaming. “I like the way you think.”

Richard kept his arm around Connie and escorted them onto the terrace. The moon, large and full, shone down on the narrow walled garden.

Rudy shook his head. “I hate to burst your bubble, Dicky Boy, but it’s too small out here for a good game.”

“We can play inside too.”

“Can we? Oh, this’ll be aces.”

Richard led them back through the French doors. “Get the lights, will you?”

“Pardon me.” Rudy leaned over a couple cuddling in an armchair and gave the chain of the Tiffany floor lamp a quick tug. “Proceed.” 

“What’s the idea?” someone asked as the room darkened.

“Gather round, gang,” Richard called on his way into the dining room. He dimmed the chandelier to glowing filaments as his guests converged. “We’re going to play Ghost in the Graveyard.”

“That’s a kids’ game.”

“Not the way we play it,” Rudy said gleefully.

“The boys are the ghosts,” Richard said and rapped his knuckles on the dining table. “Girls, this is home base. If you’re caught before you reach it, you forfeit a kiss.” His announcement elicited a few gasps and several giggles. 

“Don’t worry,” Rudy said in Gladys’s ear. “If you spot this ghost, I’ll take a two second handicap.”

She looked him up and down. “I won’t need it.”

“Ah, but you’ve never seen me go when I’m really motivated.”

“Likewise.”

“The ghosts can hide in the garden or in the house up to the floor above,” Richard explained, “anywhere but the front room. That’s my father’s sanctum sanctorum.”

“Well, if he as much as sticks a toe out, he’s in play,” Gladys declared to a round of laughter. 

“I hope he does. My father probably hasn’t had a good kiss in twenty years. But if I know Pop, he’s in dreamland by now.”

The men went into a huddle to discuss strategy as the women assembled around the table. “Hey, Brain Trust, are you ready or what?” Gladys called.

“OK, girls. Cover your eyes,” Richard said.

They did as directed. “One o’clock. Two o’clock.” As they counted slowly through the hours, the men set out for their hiding places. “Eleven o’clock. Midnight. I hope I don’t see a ghost tonight.”

“Speak for yourselves,” Gladys said as their commencing chant carried through the house. 

“A ghost is only allowed to catch one girl,” Alice whispered. “If we stick together, two of us can get back to base scot-free.”

“That’s unsportsmanlike conduct,” Gladys scolded. “You’re going to march out right there and find yourself a ghost. And by golly, you’ll be successfully caught if I have to trip you myself.”

“If we head in different directions,” Connie said, “there’s a better chance that one of us finds Dick. I’ll go down to the kitchens.”

Gladys blocked her path. “You peeked, didn’t you?”

Connie raised her chin. “What a thing to say. Just for that, I won’t warn you which way Rudy went.” She swept past Gladys and down the dark staircase.

“Clever kid.” Gladys spun Alice toward the front hall. “I’m going out to the garden. You go that way.” She gave her a gentle shove.

Alice crept into the darkened foyer, where the pale glow of the sidelights struggled to alleviate the gloom. Faint noises came from behind a door to her left. With a resigned sigh, she turned the knob. The door swung in, disclosing a shadowy couple locked in an embrace. 

“Get your own ghost,” the girl said and kicked the door with her foot. Rudy’s “Ha-ha” drifted out as it clicked shut.

The hall closet and vestibule proved to be unoccupied. Only one door remained. Alice stood in front of the study, listening. The hand that hovered over the knob trembled gently. Scampering footfalls crossed the floor above her. Laughter floated down the stairs. Swiftly and silently, Alice entered the study and closed the door behind her.

She stood with her back against the wooden panels, breathing heavily. The lamps were off, and the room was bathed in silver moonlight. A radio played softly. The clinking of glass indicated a drink being poured. 

She peeked out of the niched entry. Jonathan Bradley stood at the far end of the room, silhouetted by the front windows. A half-depleted decanter sat on the occasional table beside him. After a few seconds, an empty glass joined it. He exhaled deeply. It was a lonely, discontented sound.

Alice left the niche and tip-toed toward the solitary figure. She reached his side unnoticed and followed his gaze out into the deserted street. A moment later, he turned to her with a start. “You.”

“Ghost in the graveyard,” she said quietly.

His hand reached out and touched her elbow. “I‘m afraid I don’t follow.”

“You’ve caught me.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, dropping his arm as she faced him. “I didn’t mean to—”

She leaned forward and brushed her lips against his. Then she stepped back, her face dismayed. Her hand covered her mouth, muffling her stammered apologies. Her eyes sought the door. 

Jonathan grasped her arm. “Why did you do that?” 

“We’re playing a game,” she explained, still looking away. “If you’re caught, you forfeit a kiss.” 

“A game,” he repeated, his voice dull. “I see.”

Her eyes flew back to him. “No, you don’t,” she said. “Oh, I don’t know. It must be those cocktails.”

She stared out the window, the fingers of one hand pressed to her temple. Jonathan observed her intently. Moonlight washed over her, pale and ethereal. “You don’t seem worse for the wine to me,” he said. “In fact, you don’t seem quite real.”

“Don’t I?”

“No. Perhaps you’re the ghost. Or queen of the fairies,” he mused, touching a frill of organza which fell from her shoulder like a shimmering wing. He shook his head. “Or perhaps I’m a little intoxicated myself.”

“When I saw you earlier,” she said hesitantly, “I felt like I had been…oh, I can’t explain it.”

“As if you were struck by lightning?”

She looked at him in surprise. “Yes. It’s been on my thoughts ever since. I had to see you again.”

“And prove that lightning never strikes twice.”

“But it has.” Her words tumbled over themselves. “As soon as I saw you, it happened again. My heart’s pounding. I’m shaking like a leaf. Look.” She held up a trembling hand, then rubbed her arms. “There’s a strange tingling in my veins. I couldn’t help myself. It’s absolutely…” Her gaze went to his mouth. She leaned in. 

“Magnetic,” he murmured. His head tilted to meet hers.

Their lips touched in a light, tentative kiss, then molded to each other. His hands moved to her waist, hers to his chest. 

They remained in their embrace, dark profiles against the moonlit window, until a passing car broke their idyll. 

Jonathan drew back. “This is the darnedest thing.” He wiped his hand over his face.

Alice gave a small, rueful smile. “My friend tells me I’m too reserved, that I should bust out and grab hold of life.”

“Richard tells me the same thing. Well, we certainly took their advice, didn’t we?”

She laughed shakily. “Maybe it’s the full moon. They say it has a strange effect on people.”

“We’re just a pair of lunatics unhinged by its pull.”

Running feet shook the floor above them. Alice took a step toward the door. “You won’t tell anyone, will you?”

“No, we’ll keep this between ourselves,” Jonathan said gravely. His dark eyes twinkled.

When she reached the niche, he called, “I suppose another ghost will try to catch you.” 

She looked back over her shoulder. “If one succeeds, it won’t be half so nice.” 

Alice left as quietly as she had come. As Jonathan poured himself another drink, the orchestra on the radio began to play Moonglow. “That’s enough out of you,” he muttered, turning it off.

<>-<>-<>

Jonathan poured himself a second cup of coffee. “Have fun with your friends last night, son?”

“It was a gasser,” Richard declared around a piece of bacon.

“It must have been. The festivities went on well after midnight.”

“Yet I’m fresh as a daisy this morning.” He observed his father more closely. “You look a little tired, Pop. Did we keep you awake?”

“No, no. I had some bank business on my mind last night.”

“California?”

“Yes.”

“Ol’ Morley too busy wooing starlets to mind the store?” Richard ventured with a chuckle.

“Could be.”

“Some men let women go straight to their heads.”

Jonathan fumbled the sugar tongs. “I’ve noticed.” 

“Oh, I always keep my head. I just lose my heart.”

“Anyone in particular in possession at the moment?” Jonathan inquired lightly.

“Ask me again in a few weeks.”

“One of the young ladies from last night? You seemed to be on very friendly terms.”

Richard shook a slice of bacon at his father. “Now, Pop, don’t be a McKinley stinker. It’s all in good fun.”

“That sort of fun might result in a breach of promise suit.”

“I haven’t made promises.” Richard winked. “Not yet, anyway.”

Jonathan frowned.

“No, really, Pop. It’s a swell gang. Sure, we’re sowing a few oats, but they’re not very wild ones. You should hear how some other fellows carry on.”

“I suppose this dinosaur isn’t used to your modern ways,” Jonathan said and picked up his newspaper.

“Used to them? You’re barely acquainted. Between raising me and running things at the bank, you’ve let the world pass you by. You’ve got to get out there and live a little.”

“I wonder how you’d feel if you got your wish.”

Richard raised his orange juice. “Here’s to finding out.”

<>-<>-<>

“What did you do, take the scenic route?” Gladys asked when the roadster parked at the curb.

“We had a little engine trouble,” Alice said with a roll of her eyes. 

Gladys jerked her thumb toward Rudy. “That’s funny. I can hear his motor running from here.”

She opened the passenger door. “Hey, quit playing doorman,” Rudy cried as he circled around the hood. “That’s my job.”

“I’d say you’d done enough for one night. Now breeze. I want to talk to my friend.”

He grinned knowingly. “I get it. But why settle for a vicarious thrill? I’ll take you for a drive anytime.”

“Aw, shut your trap.” Gladys watched him stride toward the townhouse. “Gee, I’ve got a yen for that dope.”

“Then why make me ride with him?” Alice asked, taking a compact from her handbag. She checked her face in the light of the street lamp.

“Because I’m not ready for him to know it yet.” Gladys nudged her shoulder. “So how was it?”

Alice laughed. “Damp, but not terrible.” As she smoothed her hair, the tiny mirror caught a movement in the front windows of the townhouse. She looked over her shoulder. The panes were dark and still.

Gladys gave her a small salute as they headed to the door. “I’m proud of you. You’re finally living up to the Delta tradition.”

“I had plenty of dates in college,” Alice protested. “And I never missed a dance.”

“I’d give you a C average. Passing but not a scholar.”

“We can’t all graduate with honors.”

“Magna cum amore.” Gladys breathed on her nails and rubbed them against her chest. “And my mother wanted me to major in home economics.”

<>-<>-<>

Jonathan stepped away from the front windows as his son entered the study. 

“Home already?” Richard asked. “I guess my stern lecture on burning the candle at both ends will have to keep.”

Jonathan took the pipe from his mouth. “How was the show?”

“A rip-snorter.” He laughed as his father shook his head. “How was dinner at the Mayfields’?”

“More of a snorer.”

Richard took a cigarette from his case. “Did the Colonel’s wife have another widow for you?”

“A Mrs. Almsford.”

“Was she attractive?” he asked, accepting a light from his father.

“Fairly.”

“Was she interested?”

“Decidedly.”

Richard added his own smoke to the general haze. “But not vice-versa.”

“Disappointed, son?”

“Utterly. I’ve been telling my friends how my only father’s been out on the town, giving me a run for my money, and now I find you home before midnight. I don’t know how I’ll hold my head up.”

Jonathan chuckled. “I’ll try to do better.”

“See that you do.” Richard headed to the door. “Don’t worry, Pop. One of these nights, lightning will strike. Then I’ll really get to use my lecture.”

<>-<>-<>

Alice sat on a bench near the back of the narrow garden. A vine-clad arbor arched above her, shielding her from the guests on the terrace. Music drifted from the house and accompanied the moonlight that danced in a small reflecting pool.

“May I join you?”

Jonathan stepped around the side of the arbor, handsome in black tie and dinner jacket.

Alice blushed. “Yes, Mr. Bradley.”

“I think we can dispense with the Mister and Miss, Alice.” He sat beside her. “Call me Jon, won’t you?”

“All right, Jon.” She smiled shyly.

He pointed to the sky. “That moon’s here again. How do you feel this time around?”

“Swell.” Her voice trembled. “That is, I feel like myself again.”

He studied her profile. “Not me, I’m afraid. I’m thoroughly galvanized.” 

He held out his hand. After a moment, she took it. He kissed the back of her fingers.

She looked from their clasped hands to his face. “I don’t really feel swell.” 

“I’m glad.”

They leaned toward each other. What began as a gentle kiss quickly became impassioned. The space between them disappeared. Jonathan’s arms embraced her tightly and remained around her after their lips had parted. 

“So much for that saying about lightning,” he said raggedly.

“I’ve only had one cocktail tonight.” She rested her temple against his cheek and gazed out at the reflecting pool. “Maybe it really is moon madness.”

“If we were to see each other in the daylight, the spell might be broken.”

“How about lunch tomorrow?” she suggested tentatively.

He massaged his earlobe. “Well, I’ve wanted to see the new diorama at the Natural History Museum. If that’s not the antithesis of a moonlit garden, I don’t know what is.”

She laughed. “Nannies and school kids and stuffed ostriches.”

He laughed as well. “Would you care to share a hamburger and a stroll amid the taxidermy?”

She tilted her face. “I’d like that.” 

Approaching footsteps interrupted their kiss. Jonathan withdrew his arms.

“Until tomorrow,” she said, standing.

“Tomorrow at noon, and the spell will be broken.”

“Almost like Cinderella.” Her smiled faltered, and she hurried away. 

<>-<>-<>

The corner of the museum’s rear wing was quiet and secluded. Jonathan rolled a bag of popcorn closed and placed it on the bench between them. 

“Well, we’ve seen the exhibits,” he said. “And you’ve heard about the dull life of a banker.”

“And my undistinguished career as a coed.” 

He squared his shoulders and said with forced brightness, “What’s the verdict? Have I turned back into a pumpkin?”

Alice was silent. Their eyes met. He took her hand and held it to his cheek.

“Alice,” he breathed with a mystified tenderness. “For this ordinary, old fool.” 

“You’re not that,” she said firmly. “Besides, what about shy, unsophisticated Alice Williams?” 

“I’ve never met her. The only Alice Williams I know is an enchanting creature who has me thoroughly in her spell.”

He pulled her to her feet and under the shelter of the marble staircase. After a few minutes, a passing custodian, observing the abandoned popcorn, dropped the bag in his waste bucket and continued his rounds. 

Beneath the staircase, Jonathan wiped lipstick from his mouth with a monogrammed handkerchief. “This will give the Farrells something to talk about.”

Alice pressed her cheek to his. “If this is madness, it’s a glorious way to go.”

He held her close. “We should be sensible. You’re my son’s friend. I imagine Richard’s even been one of your beaux.”

She laughed. “Never seriously.”

“But he’s kissed you.”

She nodded.

“Ah.” He loosened his arms.

She linked her fingers at the back of his neck. “When I saw you, everyone else faded away. This is the only thing that’s real.”

“Is it? I’m afraid I’m not as certain. It still seems like a fairy story to me.” 

“We’ll lunch again tomorrow and prove it’s not. Did you ever hear of a fairy story with frankfurters?” She searched his face. “You will meet me, won’t you?”

He sighed in capitulation. “Have you ever visited Grant’s Tomb?”

<>-<>-<>

“‘May and December can never agree,’” Jonathan recited, returning a book to the shelf of the secondhand shop.

Alice looked up from a musty volume of poetry. “Perhaps not. But May and September are doing just dandy.”

“What will your people think?”

“My parents have thirteen years between them.”

“I’m afraid there’s a bit more than that between us,” he said ruefully, massaging his earlobe.

She snapped the book closed, sending a plume of dust into the air. “If I don’t care, why should they?”

“Shhhh.” A hatchet-faced woman at the other end of the aisle glared at them. Jonathan tipped his hat and drew Alice farther into the cramped stacks. 

“Besides,” Alice continued, “we’re both over twenty-one. We can do as we please.”

Jonathan’s hands rested on her shoulders. “Parents never stop caring about their children’s happiness.”

“Then they’ll have to like you, because you make me very happy.”

“You shouldn’t feel that way about me.” He pulled her close. “And I shouldn’t feel that way about you.”

“Well, we do. In the moonlight, the sunshine...” She pointed at the incandescent bulb which flickered above them. “And the romantic glow of a chandelier.”

“You look lovely in the candlelight,” he said, lowering his face to hers.

At a gasp, their lips parted. The hatchet-faced woman sputtered in outrage, her pince-nez slipping from her face.

Jonathan released Alice and smiled apologetically. “Love poems. Very affecting.” He took Alice’s elbow and led her around the indignant woman toward the door onto 4th Avenue.

Alice handed her the book as they passed. “Give them a try.”

<>-<>-<>

“Your twelve o’clock appointment is here, sir.”

“Thank you. Send her right in.” Jonathan flipped the Dictograph switch off, then on again. “Oh, Miss Prescott, I won’t need you again until two, so feel free to take a long lunch.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Bradley. I will.”

Alice entered the office. Jonathan crossed from behind his desk and took her hands. 

“Well, do I look important enough to be seen by the head man?” she asked.

Jonathan swung her arms wide and looked her over. She wore a coat dress of green georgette, with a black silk tie and finely pleated ruffles at the collar and the sleeves. Beneath the matching hat, her blonde hair was set in deep finger waves ending in a mass of pin curls. “You look charming,” he declared.

“Then all that pummeling at the salon was worth it.” Her eyes roamed the office. “So this is where you toil away the hours.”

He squeezed her hands. “What do you think?”

“It’s not what I imagined a banker’s office would be.”

“Oh?”

She withdrew her hands and draped her fur stole over the back of a leather chair. “Somehow I thought there would be vaulted ceilings and an enormous desk,” she said playfully, “one side piled high with papers, the other with stacks of coins.”

He smiled. “That’s only in the funny pages.”

She tossed her handbag onto the desk, then moved to the window and gazed out at the city. “I don’t know how you get a bit of work done with this view. I’d be mesmerized.”

He stood behind her. “You’re not too disappointed in my office, are you?” he asked earnestly.

She spun around. “Not at all. Why?”

“I have the foolish desire for you to like everything about me.”

“I think this office is handsome and well-appointed,” she said, touching the lapels of his gray striped suit, “just like its occupant. I’m terribly enamored with both of you.”

As he kissed her cheek, she said, “How long has Miss Prescott been with you?”

“About eight years. Why do you ask?”

“She had a sort of knowing look on her face when she announced me.”

“Yes, I heard it in her tone. Don’t worry. She’s as loyal as they come.”

“Good. I liked her immediately, and I felt a bit silly putting on airs out there.” She paused, then said hesitantly, “I’m also a little envious of her.”

“Of Miss Prescott? What on earth for?”

She played with his tie pin. “She sees you everyday, works at your side, knows a thousand things about you.”

“We see each other almost everyday too.”

“I know. But I miss you when we’re apart.” She looked at him through her lashes. “Does that make me a clinging vine?”

“It makes you an angel,” he declared, his arms tightening around her. “You know, Miss Prescott’s caught me mooning several times lately. Now she knows why.”

“I’ve brought something for you. It’s in my handbag.” She took her clutch from the desk and removed a small photograph. “You could keep it in your wallet. Then in a way I’ll always be with you.” 

Jonathan looked from her blushing face to the little studio portrait. He turned it over and read the inscription. “To Jon, With all my love, Alice.”

“Darling,” he said gruffly. His arms reached for her, then dropped. “If we keep this up, we’ll never make it in time.” He tucked the photo into his billfold and slipped it inside his coat.

She grabbed her stole as he ushered her to the door. “Where are we going?”

“For a picnic in the clouds,” he announced grandly.

She laughed. “Are we eating on the roof?”

“No. A fellow we finance takes up passengers in his airplane for a bird’s-eye tour of the city.”

“Jon, how marvelous.” She watched him set a charcoal homburg on his silver head and added, “You know, an airplane seems almost unnecessary.”

“What do you mean?”

Her brown eyes shone softly. “Because one kiss from you, and I’m already soaring.” 

<>-<>-<>

“Ship ahoy,” Richard exclaimed.

As Alice followed his gaze across the crowded nightclub, the color drained from her face. Jonathan Bradley, debonair in white tie and tails, navigated the sea of tables. On his arm was a Junoesque woman in a black lamé gown and tightly marcelled hair. 

“Pop’s escorting an armored frigate.”

Rudy stood and saluted. Gladys pulled him back down onto his chair. “Cut that out.”

“Can’t help it. I come from a long line of Navy men.”

“Then why haven’t you joined up?”

“Hydrophobia.”

Richard’s wave caught his father’s attention, and Jonathan changed course for their table. 

“I didn’t know you’d be here tonight,” Richard said, shaking his father’s hand.

Jonathan’s dark eyes darted briefly to Alice, who was staring at the band. “It’s a surprise to me too.” 

“But not an unpleasant one, I hope,” the imposing woman trilled as she squeezed his arm.

Jonathan’s polite smiled became fixed. “Eudora, this is my son, Richard,” he said. “Richard, this is Mrs. Waldo P. Hazelwood.” He paused while they exchanged greetings. “The Hazelwoods are visiting from Texas.”

“My husband is in New York on important business matters,” she said. “Poor Waldo was completely tuckered out, so dear Jonathan insisted on showing me the town.”

“Then I insist you join us,” Richard said, exchanging a glance with his father. “We’ll be one big, happy family.” He stopped a passing waiter and requested two more chairs.

Jonathan tucked his guest between Richard and himself, putting Alice on his right. “Won’t you introduce us to your friends, son? I’m afraid I’m terrible with names.” He winced as Alice’s satin pump made violent contact with his ankle.

Richard made the introductions. Eudora simpered at the men and barely glanced at the women. 

“Jonathan, I just can’t get over your having a grown son,” she said, patting her sleek hair. “People might talk, seeing you out with a filly on your arm.”

Rudy erupted into a coughing fit. Gladys took the glass from his shaking hand and pounded his back. “Don’t mind him. He can’t take his water straight.” 

“Hazelwood,” Alice mused. “Connie, didn’t Phi Beta pledge a Hazelwood from Texas?”

Connie nodded. “Rose was her name. Would she be a relation, Mrs. Hazelwood?”

The lady flushed. “My daughter. Of course, I married dear Waldo when I was just a slip of a girl.”

“Of course. Well, Rose was a swell kid.”

“Oh my, yes,” Gladys gushed. “That little ol’ accent, and the way she always wore yellow.” She smiled insincerely. “The Phi Betas had a lucky break when they got her.”

Eudora peered at the younger woman suspiciously. Richard sprang to his feet as the band played the opening notes of Let’s Begin. “This is our dance, Gladys,” he declared and led her away. 

“Mrs. Hazelwood, would you do me the honor?” Rudy asked. 

Eudora cast a sidelong glance at Jonathan, who remained silent. “Why, of course,” she said after a moment. 

“You know, I come from a long line of Navy men,” Rudy said as he escorted her from the table.

Jonathan turned to Alice. “Would you care to dance, Miss Williams?”

“I’d be delighted, Mr. Bradley,” she said woodenly.

The dance floor teemed with elegant couples holding each other close, the men in monochrome evening wear, the women in svelte, colorful gowns. Jonathan and Alice joined the swaying throng. Her rigid arms imposed a formal distance between them. After a few turns around the floor, Jonathan said, “You look beautiful in that dress.” 

“Thank you,” she replied coolly. “Mr. McAlister also admired it. He said it was minxy.”

He looked down at the Greek-style gown of ivory silk trimmed with narrow gold braid. Long drop sleeves exposed her arms from shoulder to elbow. “If that means what I think, he’s correct.”

Alice lifted her chin and maintained an aloof gaze over his shoulder.

“You know, this is our first dance together,” he said. “I’m sadly out of practice.”

“Then maybe we should talk less so you can concentrate.”

“You’re angry with me.”

“With you? How could I be? After all, we’re merely acquaintances.”

“That’s not true. We’re very well acquainted.” He looked at her averted face with amused affection. “You know onions disagree with me, and I know you prefer cheese on your hamburgers.”

“An easy thing to guess.”

“Swiss cheese,” he amended and tsked. “Most unpatriotic.”

Her expression softened momentarily, then regained its frost. 

“You know that I almost died of scarlet fever as a boy,” he continued, “and I know that tiny scar by your mouth is from a bout of chicken pox.”

“How gallant of you to mention it.”

He put his lips beside her ear and murmured, “And I know that when I kiss that spot, you melt in my arms.”

Alice sighed and abandoned her stiff posture. As Jonathan pulled her close, she pressed her cheek to his. “Did you really insist on showing that woman the town?”

“Certainly not. I was roped and hog-tied. When Hazelwood telephoned and asked if I would escort Eudora…” He shrugged. “Well, I couldn’t refuse our biggest depositor in Texas.”

“I see,” she said. “Anchors away.”

“So to speak. Now I’m two stops into a pub crawl with no end in sight.” He craned his neck self-consciously. “She pinched me tonight.”

“Where?”

“In the…ahem, taxi cab.”

“The nerve,” Alice said, her lips twitching. “Even I haven’t pinched you in the taxi cab.”

“I wish it had been you. This was like getting caught by a snapping turtle.”

“We’ll buy you some liniment.”

“We ought to send it to Hazelwood. Eudora is already making plans for us tomorrow.”

“Not luncheon plans?”

Jonathan nodded. “She wants me to take her to Luchow’s, then a matinee.”

“With seats in the back of the balcony, I bet.”

Jonathan shuddered. “I’ll be black and blue. I already dread the next taxi ride.”

“Maybe dancing with Rudy will give her a bilious headache.”

“I doubt she’s susceptible.”

“Poor Waldo,” Alice laughed. “No wonder he’s tuckered out.”

As the music ended, they found themselves beside Richard and Gladys. 

“Has he been keeping his feet off your toes?” Richard asked.

“Better than you do.”

“Ho-ho. For that remark, we’re changing partners.” He took Alice into his arms.

“Pardon me, son,” Jonathan said. “I should be getting back to—”

“The S.S. Hazelwood? Oh, let Rudy pilot her for a while, Pop. He has his family’s naval tradition to uphold.”

“And she’ll have the damp back to show for it,” Gladys murmured to Alice as she moved to take Jonathan’s arm. “Come on, Mr. Bradley. Show me how they cut a rug when that other Roosevelt was in office.”

“Careful what you ask for,” Richard advised as the band struck up another song. “He’ll make you do the Turkey Trot.”

Jonathan led Gladys in a box step, holding her at a genteel distance. “I’ll have you know, your mother and I once scandalized a ballroom with that dance. Someone even threatened to call the police.”

Richard turned his back to his father. “Shocking,” he said over his shoulder. “And to think I asked you to join our party tonight.”

“I know,” Gladys added. “You should have included him a long time ago.” 

The ebb and flow of the dancers carried the couples away from each other.

Richard shook his head. “Young people these days. What are we going to do with them?” He eyed Alice with mock concern. “He didn’t forget himself with you, did he?”

Alice blushed. “Dick, what a thing to say.”

Richard laughed unrepentantly. “Pop’s probably forgotten anything he ever knew about making a pass. Gladys will sure be disappointed.” 

“So will that Hazelwood woman.”

<>-<>-<>

Jonathan sat behind the desk in his study. “Get that letter to Morley out right away.”

“Yes, sir,” Miss Prescott replied, closing her steno-pad.

The telephone rang. After a few moments, Farrell entered. “Mrs. Hazelwood is calling again, sir.”

“Blast that woman,” Jonathan exclaimed, throwing his pen onto the desk. “She’s already driven me from my office. Now I’m not even safe in my own home.” He looked at his manservant. “Did you tell her I’m sick?” 

“Yes, sir, but she is most insistent. She said it is a matter of life and death.”

Jonathan groaned in exasperation, then picked up the extension and coughed into it. “Hello, Eudora. I’m afraid I’m not feeling—” He frowned. “What? Why that’s ridiculous. Stand by you? There’s no reason to—” His face grew dismayed, and his voice lost its hoarse edge. “No, Eudora, don’t you dare…Hello?”

He banged the receiver down. “She’s coming here. She said her husband knows about us and he wants to have it out with me. What a scene that will be.”

Miss Prescott tapped her pencil against her chin. “Perhaps if they thought you were already steamed up about someone, they’d realize their mistake.”

Jonathan waved his hand distractedly. “Thank you, Miss Prescott, but I couldn’t ask that of you.”

“I’m flattered, Mr. Bradley,” she said archly, “but I was referring to Miss Williams.”

“Miss Williams? Now what makes you think that I…?” He faltered under the weight of her knowing look. “No, a situation like this would mortify her. She’s really quite reserved”—he massaged his earlobe—“with most people.”

“Then what will you do?”

“Try to get Hazelwood to listen to reason.” He crossed to the side table. “I think this calls for a highball. Will you join me?”

“No, thanks. I don’t take them.” She gathered her materials and went to the door. “I’ll get started on these letters right away. It might be awfully hard to concentrate once the shooting starts.” 

Farrell awaited her in the front hall. “Pardon me, Miss Prescott. Might you suggest any special preparations to make for these visitors?”

She shook her finger at him. “Farrell, you’ve been listening at keyholes.”

“No, miss, on the extension,” he said with cool dignity. “A regrettable necessity employed only the gravest of circumstances.”

“I’ll get back with you in a minute,” she said, heading for the living room. “Don’t move a muscle.”

“I shan’t stir from this spot, miss.”

Miss Prescott ignored the Corona typewriter on the escritoire and went straight to the telephone. The operator connected her to a number on a nearby exchange. “Hello. Is this Miss Williams? This is Prescott. I’ll skip the pleasantries and cut right to the chase. How much would you be willing to do to get Mr. Bradley out of a jam?” She smiled. “That’s what I thought. Now here’s the scoop.”

<>-<>-<>

“Back home in the old days, a lowdown scalawag like you would be horsewhipped,” Waldo P. Hazelwood drawled, slamming his fist into his other palm. His cherubic face was red with anger. “I’ll have to be satisfied with suing you for alienation of affection.”

Eudora sat on the living room sofa, wilting against the armrest. She dabbed an eye with a lace-edged handkerchief. “Can’t we be dignified about this?”

“There’s nothing dignified about a rustler, Dora.”

She sat erect, eyes snapping. “Nor about a man who refers to his wife as a head of cattle.” The handkerchief was employed again as she sniffed, “And you used to call me your little filly.”

Jonathan ran his hand over his face. “Hazelwood, this is all an unfortunate misunderstanding. I have no interest of that sort in your wife, I assure you.”

“Oh, Jonathan, how can you say such a thing?” Eudora wailed, stretching her arm toward him.

“Very easily.” He moved out of range of her grasping fingers and leaned on the tall Philco. A jazz band began to play, the rapid, jubilant notes at odds with the tension in the room. 

“This is no time for the radio,” Waldo barked. 

Jonathan glanced down. The dial on the cabinet face was dark. “It’s coming from somewhere outside.”

“What a city,” Waldo declared disapprovingly, tilting back the Stetson that augmented his modest height. “Flannel-mouthed bankers who think your wife’s part of your portfolio, and jitterbug before lunch. Thank goodness I’m taking the next train back to Texas.” 

Farrell entered the living room carrying a laden tray. “Pardon me,” he intoned and passed through the French doors.

“And before I go…” Waldo‘s words were drowned out by the clamorous music that poured in the open door. He raised his voice. “I say, before I go, I’m closing my accounts. You may have stolen my Dora’s heart, but I’ll be darned if I let you steal my money too. “

A tenor vocalist added his enthusiastic efforts to those of the band. Waldo yanked off his hat and slapped it against his thigh. “Bradley, will you do something about that doggone caterwauling?” 

“What can I do?” Jonathan said. “It must be the neighbors.”

“Sounds like your corral to me.” Waldo looked out the French doors. “What in tarnation?”

“What is it, Waldo?” Eudora asked, joining him. She shrieked and clung to his arm.

Jonathan strode quickly onto the terrace. A tousled blonde sat at a table in the garden, wearing a man’s silk dressing gown and little else. Farrell unloaded covered dishes beside a portable phonograph. 

Jonathan descended the steps, the Hazelwoods close behind. “What are you doing—?”

“Up so early?” Alice finished in a broad accent. “How can a person sleep with that racket? If I wanted to hear shouting, I’d have stayed in Brooklyn.” 

“Bacon, miss?” Farrell said, holding out a plate.

She took a piece with her fingers and consumed half in one bite. “Mmm, that’s the berries. Mrs. F knows just how I like it.”

“Coffee?” 

“Just jav. No cow.”

Farrell filled her cup from a silver coffee pot, then withdrew with the empty tray.

“Jonathan, who is this woman?” Eudora demanded. She gasped as Alice stuck a long, slim leg through the part in her robe.

Jonathan massaged his earlobe. “Why, this is Miss—”

“The name’s Trixie. Trixie LaBelle.” Alice slipped a flask from her garter and tipped amber liquid into her coffee cup. “What do they call you, dearie? 

As the affronted woman sputtered indignantly, Waldo answered, “This lady happens to be my wife, Eudora Hazelwood.”

Alice shook her head. “With a moniker like that, I wouldn’t go around spouting it.”

Eudora rounded on Jonathan. “How dare you expose us to this brazen creature.”

“Now, now, Dora. Don’t get yourself into a lather.” Waldo patted his wife’s arm. “I’m sure Bradley can account for this young lady’s presence.”

“Miss LaBelle is an, um…old friend of the family.”

“A kissing cousin,” Alice said with a wink. The record ended, and her face fell into a pout. “Jonny, the music.”

“Oh, of course.” Jonathan went to the phonograph. “What would you like to hear?”

“Put on that new one you bought me.”

“Certainly.” He exchanged the record for another in the case.

As the band launched into a raucous number, Alice beat a hand on her bared knee. “Boy, that’s hot. Doesn’t it send you?” She stood up and danced around her chair, her feathered mules tapping rhythmically on the flagstones.

Waldo’s eyes swung between the two women. He cleared his throat. “Bradley, I may have been a might hasty in some of the things I said earlier. Considering the situation, however, I still think it best that Hazelwood Oil unhitch itself from your bank.” 

“Hazelwood Oil?” Alice squealed. “You’re Wildcat Wally.”

Waldo blenched. “Pardon me. Have we met?”

Alice sauntered closer, her eyes roaming over him boldly. “Not socially. I heard about you from a pal.”

“You did? From a business associate of mine, I reckon.”

“Business associate? She’ll love that. I suppose that fur coat was a Christmas bonus.” Alice fingered the piping that trimmed the lapel of his blue suit. “I wish Jonny was as generous.” 

Eudora inhaled deeply and glared down at her husband. “Waldo, what is this woman talking about?” 

“Darned if I know, Dora. She must have me confused with some other feller.”

Alice swatted his shoulder. “Not a chance. She told me all about you, from your ten-gallon hat to that mole on your—”

“Waldo,” Eudora bellowed.

Jonathan turned off the phonograph, the sudden silence drawing the attention of the others. “Can’t we be dignified about this?”

Hazelwood pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his forehead. “On second thought, Bradley, forget everything I said today. No use swapping horses midstream.” He held out his arm for his wife. “Come along, Dora. We don’t want to miss our train.”

Eudora swept past him. “Don’t bother about magazines. We’ll have plenty to discuss on the trip.”

He pulled his Stetson down more firmly onto his head. “You bet we will.”

Farrell reappeared at the French doors and escorted the Hazelwoods away.

“Alice, you’re a wonder,” Jonathan declared. 

She returned to the table, laughing shakily. “I can’t take all the credit. It was Prescott’s idea.”

The secretary left the shelter of the steps that led down to the kitchen. “I saw it in a matinee last week.”

“Then these long lunches have been worthwhile all around. But how did you know about Wildcat Wally?”

“Oh, that? You’d be surprised what you hear around the water cooler. We just added a few embellishments of our own.”

Jonathan looked at her with appreciation. “Miss Prescott, I think you’ve earned yourself a bonus.”

“Thank you, sir. I’ve always wanted a fur coat.” 

Amusement lit his eyes. “As long as you don’t tell anyone who bought it.” 

She crossed her heart. “I’ll finish those letters back at the office.” As she ascended onto the terrace, she called, “See you in the morning.”

“If she ever resigned, I think the bank would fail,” he said, watching her leave. He drew Alice into his embrace. “What can I do for you, Miss LaBelle?”

Alice blushed and buried her face against his neck. Jonathan chuckled. “Now you’re bashful?”

“I’ve got butterflies like nobody’s business.”

He tightened his arms around her trembling frame. “Yet you did all of this for me. I hardly know what to say.”

“I did it for me too,” she admitted. “We haven’t seen each other for days.”

“It felt more like years.” He nuzzled her hair. “Miss Prescott’s given me the afternoon off. Why don’t we make up for lost time?”

She giggled. “That much food calls for the little Swedish place.” 

“I do enjoy their smorgasbord.” He lifted her face. “I enjoy this more.”

After a long, languorous kiss, Jonathan said, “Have you any slower records in there?”

Alice nodded. “But shouldn’t I change first?”

He looked down at his dressing gown, his dark eyes widening, then stepped back. “Oh, yes. I forgot about that.” 

She pulled one end of the silk sash, releasing the bow. “Alice,” he yelped and turned his head.

She laughed. “It’s all right, Jon. Really.”

He slanted his gaze toward her, then smiled. “That is more than all right,” he said, admiring the form-fitting yellow bathing suit with its deep V neckline. “It’s…what was that word?” 

“Minxy?”

“Yes. Absolutely minxy. It makes me wish we had a swimming pool.”

“We could take the ferry over to Palisades Park.”

He shook his head. “Too crowded. I don’t want to share you with strangers. Not today.” 

“I guess that leaves the Swedes out. What will we do instead?”

“Stay here. We’ve music to dance to and a cook as good as any restaurant chef.” He closed her robe and tied the sash. “And as fascinating as Trixie LaBelle has been, the Farrells ought to be properly introduced to Alice Williams.”

“Prescott did that when I arrived. Mrs. Farrell took one look at me and said she’d know this shade of lipstick anywhere.” She blushed. “Then she started to sermonize on modern girls and our painted faces.”

Jonathan laughed. “That means she likes you. You should have heard her lecture Richard, all while making his favorite cookies and letting him lick the spoon.”

“When he was a boy?”

He shook his head. “Last week.”

She smiled. “The Farrells take good care of you.”

“They’re not the only ones.” He took her face in his hands. “I don’t know what I’d do if you stopped loving me.”

“You’ll never have to find out.”

<>-<>-<>

“I’m still very annoyed with you,” Alice said breathlessly.

Jonathan briefly removed his lips from her earlobe. “Likewise.”

She ran her fingers through his hair, humming with pleasure as he resumed his nibbling. “You’re the most unreasonable man I ever met.”

“And you are a darn stubborn woman. I knew it the moment I saw this obstinate little chin,” he said, grasping it between his thumb and forefinger.

She wrinkled her nose at him.“Does it worry you when we quarrel?”

“Not at all.” He tilted her head until her mouth aligned with his. “Particularly when we make up like this.”

The Dictograph buzzed. Jonathan reached across his desk without breaking their kiss and flipped the switch. 

“Mr. Bradley, your son is here to see you,” Miss Prescott announced.

“Richard? Now?” Jonathan asked gruffly as Alice hopped from his lap. 

“Yes, sir. I told him you were in conference.” She stressed the final word.

“Oh, yes. Well, that’s almost concluded. You can send him in shortly.”

Jonathan closed the line, then stood up and smoothed his hair. “How do I look?”

“You’re all lipstick,” Alice said, straightening his tie.

He wiped his mouth with his handkerchief. “Better?”

She took the cloth and rubbed his neck, then tucked it into his breast pocket. “Until tomorrow,” she said, plucking her handbag from the desk. After a quick peek out the side door, she blew him a kiss and left.

In the outer office, Alice crept down the wall and peered between the leaves of an aspidistra. Richard sat on the corner of Miss Prescott’s desk, flirting outrageously. A wave of her hand caught the secretary’s eye.

“You can go in now, Mr. Richard.”

“Must I? I’m having loads of fun out here.”

Miss Prescott smiled indulgently. “Yes, and my work is piling up.” She made a shooing motion with her hand. “Amscray.”

Richard laughed and slid off the desk. “All right. But I’ll be back.”

“I’ll be here.”

As the office door closed, Alice stepped out from behind the plant. “That was a close one.”

“I’ll say,” Miss Prescott responded. “This place will be a lot less exciting once you two open a joint account.”

A shadow crossed Alice’s face, and the secretary hurried around her desk. “What’s the matter? Did I speak out of turn?”

“No. Only I’m beginning to wonder if he’ll ever ask me. This secret romance has been a grand game, but I’m ready for something more. Perhaps he isn’t.” 

“Do you think it’s the, um, calendar issue?”

“I hope that’s all.”

Miss Prescott patted Alice’s shoulder. “I’m sure it is. Men are funny things. In some ways they’re more vain than we are. I should know. My brother’s in the toupee business.”

“Jon doesn’t wear a toupee,” Alice said, then blushed.

“He might yet, if you don’t go easy on him. He’s gone through a whole bottle of hair tonic since he met you.”

Alice laughed. “I’ve gone through two tubes of lipstick.”

Miss Prescott fluffed her permanent wave with a manicured hand. “And I’m in hock with the salon, thanks to all these long lunches, but it’s worth it.” 

<>-<>-<>

“How was your conference?” Richard asked as he tossed his hat onto the rack.

“It ended satisfactorily,” Jonathan said, massaging his earlobe, “though things did get heated.”

“I can tell. It looks like you were tearing your hair.” Richard followed his father to the private washroom and leaned on the doorframe. “I think your razor’s getting dull, Pop.”

“What do you mean?”

“There’s a spot on your collar.”

Jonathan craned his neck. A tiny smear of crimson marked the stiff white fabric. “Oh, yes. I’ll have to mention that to Farrell.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d have said it was lipstick.” Richard laughed. “I bet that conference was really a beautiful blonde.”

Jonathan opened the medicine cabinet. A gold compact sat on the second shelf. “Wouldn’t that be something?” he said as he grabbed his comb and swung the mirror closed.

“Entertaining any client’s wives tomorrow night?” Richard asked nonchalantly.

“No, not tomorrow.” Jonathan shook a few drops of tonic into his hand and rubbed it over his silver hair.

“Good. I’m planning a little clambake to celebrate my promotion, and I want you to be there.”

“Thanks, son, but I shouldn’t keep imposing myself on your crowd.”

“Aw, they think you’re swell. Eight o’clock at Pietro’s for dinner and dancing, and I won’t take No for an answer.”

“Will these be your college friends again?” Jonathan asked, combing his hair back.

“Some of them.” Richard examined his nails. “There’s one girl in particular I want you to know better.”

Jonathan looked at his son sharply. “Oh? Who is that?”

“I’m not going to tell you. If we’re too obvious about it, we might gum the works.”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow you.”

Richard abandoned his casual posture. “Pop, she’s a honey. A peach. If I was half as smart as I pretend to be, I would have given her my pin back at school instead of being a ladies’ man.”

Jonathan set his comb on the edge of the sink with excessive care. “Would she have accepted it?”

“I don’t know. I’m not even certain how she feels right now. That’s why we have to be careful. If she thought my father was there to judge her like a prize terrier, she might give me the air.”

“Then let’s not risk it. After all, I’ve met these young women before.”

“Not knowing that one of them could be my future bride. That puts things in a different perspective.”

“Yes, I suppose it does.” Jonathan frowned. “I still don’t like it, son. What if I don’t favor any of these young ladies? Or the wrong one?” 

Richard clapped his shoulder. “Not a chance, Pop. I guarantee you’ll love her as much as I do.” 

<>-<>-<>

“Hello, Farrell,” Alice said as she stepped into the front hall. “Is Mr. Bradley upstairs?”

“No, miss,” Farrell said, closing the door behind her. “Mr. Bradley is in the garden at present.”

“Not in bed? I thought he was under the weather.”

Farrell coughed delicately. “One could say that, miss.”

“Well, wherever he is, he has Prescott worried. She can’t remember the last time he was sick.” She checked her face in the tiny mirror inside the flap of her purse. “Do you think Mrs. Farrell could do a chicken soup for lunch?”

Farrell coughed again.

“Don’t tell me you’re catching it too?”

“No, miss. I only wish to recommend coffee as a more suitable remedy.”

She looked at him intently. “Black coffee?”

He nodded.

“I see.” She snapped her purse closed. “What brought this on?”

“That I really couldn’t say. Mrs. Farrell and I were concerned that you and Mr. Bradley…That is, we worried that perhaps something had…” He coughed once more and resumed his austere demeanor. “Mrs. Farrell will be pleased to know you are here, miss.”

“I think I’ll pop down and say hello to her,” she said, tucking her purse under her arm. “That is, if Mrs. Farrell won’t mind my invading her kitchen.”

“Not at all, miss. You will find her eager to expound on the merits of Temperance.” 

<>-<>-<>

Jonathan sat hunched over on the arbored bench, his hands between his knees, a pile of expended cigarettes at his feet. At the click of heels on the flagstones, he raised his head but did not stand.

Alice looked from his unshaven face to the empty glass beside him. The dismay in her brown eyes was quickly suppressed. “I wore it better,” she said lightly.

Jonathan glanced down at his silk dressing gown. The ghost of a smile curved his lips, then vanished. “I don’t feel up to lunching today.”

“Neither do I,” she replied, “so I had Mrs. Farrell make us toast and coffee. She was disappointed, having set her heart on a Crab Newburg, but I managed to bring her around.”

He grimaced queasily and held his stomach. “Cruelty, thy name is Alice.” 

“It serves you right, getting yourself into this state.” She extended her arm towards him. “Ally oop.”

He looked at her hand. “I won’t be much company.”

“That’s for me to decide.” She prodded a cigarette butt with the toe of her shoe. “You know, whenever I’ve imagined seeing you in your robe and whiskers, the air was scented with gardenias.”

His gaze flew to her face. A blush tinted her cheeks as their eyes met and held. He clasped her hand. “In my mind, it’s roses.”

Her color deepened. She gave a gentle tug, and he rose to his feet.

Jonathan adjusted the ascot that concealed his shirtless chest. “I’ll need a few minutes to make myself presentable.”

“I’ll wait. I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what this is all about.”

“Stubborn,” he said, taking her chin in his hand. He tipped her face down and kissed her forehead.

<>-<>-<>

Jonathan rounded the table and stood behind Alice. “Shall we take a turn around the garden, milady?”

“I’d be delighted, milord,” she replied, standing as he pulled out her chair. She took his elbow, and together they strolled down the length of the yard.

When they reached the reflecting pool, she paused. “Well, are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

Jonathan released her arm and thrust his hands into his pockets. “Alice, I don’t think we should see each other anymore.” 

She paled. Her fingers grasped his coat sleeve. “Jon, why do you say that? What’s happened?”

He patted her fingers, then lifted them gently from his arm and turned away. “These weeks together have been wonderful, but can’t you see where it’s heading? We’ve been all over the city, seen all it has to offer. There’s only one sort of place we haven’t been.”

Alice brought a trembling hand to her throat. “A hotel.”

“Yes,” he grunted. He moved to the arbor, which had been cleaned and swept, and plucked a leaf from its vines. “The more often I make love to you, the more clearly I see a register inscribed ‘Mr. and Mrs. Smith.’”

She stepped beside him and, leaning a shoulder against the metal arch, stared at his averted face. “You could set me up in a cozy little apartment. It’s much more sophisticated.”

“Don’t talk like that,” he growled, seizing her arms. “What do you take yourself for? What do you take me for? Don’t you think, if I were free, I would get a license today?”

“Aren’t you free?” she cried. “What’s stopping you?”

He let go and sank onto the bench. “Your parents, for one. I doubt your father wants a son-in-law who might have played football against him at college.”

She rubbed her arms. “They’ll come around. My happiness is their happiness.”

He wiped a hand down his face. “Then there’s Richard. How will he feel having an old sweetheart for a step-mother?”

She gave a short laugh. “I think he’d get a kick out of it.”

“I’m serious, Alice.” He looked up at her with dark, anguished eyes. “I won’t be estranged from my son.”

She drew closer and cradled his head against her breast. He resisted at first. Then with a groan he wrapped an arm around her waist and nestled his cheek in a valley of striped taffeta. 

“You aren’t going to alienate Dick,” she said. “He and I went to one dance together. I was never his sweetheart.”

“You might be now, for all we know.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s asked me to come to dinner tonight. There’s a girl, a very special girl, he wants me to know better.”

“Who?”

“He’s being coy about her name.” Jonathan closed his eyes. “You’re going to be at that dinner.”

“So are Connie and Gladys, among others,” she said, stroking his silver hair. “It could be any one of us.”

“Before he declares himself, he wants my blessing.” His bark of laughter held no humor. “My blessing to marry the woman I love.”

“I can’t imagine Dick feels that way about me. But even if he did propose, I wouldn’t accept.”

Jonathan jerked his head from its soft cushion. “What then? With my only son nursing a broken heart, I whisk you off and marry you myself? No, I couldn’t do that to him.” He dropped his face into his hands. “Can’t you see it’s hopeless?”

Alice’s brown eyes flashed. “At least, when we’re apart, we’ll have our nobility to comfort us.” She stepped back. “Or is that not sacrifice enough?” 

Anger roughened her voice. Jonathan raised his face and watched her take another step away, pale, remote, and radiant with temper. His eyes widened in alarm, and his hand reached out toward her.

“Do I let Dick lead me to the altar?” she continued unrelentingly. “Do I become the wife of a man I don’t love? All the while yearning for you every single day.” Her voice broke. She rushed back to him and fell into his lap. “And every night.” 

Her lips sought his. She kissed him passionately, possessively, until he responded with equal ardor. His arms encircled her, holding her so tightly that breathing became impossible. 

The kiss broke, and they remained in their embrace, clinging to each other and inhaling hungrily. He rested his head on her shoulder. “You’re being damned unfair,” he said, his voice shaking. 

“I’m fighting for our happiness.”

“I have the terrible feeling we’re acting out a tragedy.”

“Cheer up, Jon. It might only be a farce.”

<>-<>-<>

Mrs. Williams took the large puff from the maid and quietly signaled for her to withdraw. Then she lightly dusted powder over her daughter’s exposed back and watched her stare unseeing into the mirror. “When you’re ready to talk, I’m ready to listen.”

Alice looked at her mother’s reflection in mild surprise. “What?”

“You’ve hardly said two words together since you came home today. You were never one to yammer someone’s ear off, but that’s quiet even for you.”

“I’m pondering a problem,” Alice said, toying with an atomizer on her dressing table.

“Brooding is what you’re doing.” Mrs. Williams shook the puff at her, and a cloud of tinted dust enveloped them. Coughing, Alice took the puff from her mother’s hand.

Mrs. Williams sat on the edge of the bed and brushed powder from her sleeves. “Well, I might help you solve it if I knew what it was.”

Alice swept the puff across her chest. “It’s about getting married.”

“I can only think of a few problems leading to matrimony,” Mrs. Williams said pointedly.

Alice laughed. “Mother, it’s nothing like that.” She returned the puff to the jar and pulled her chenille robe up over her shoulders.

“I should hope not. What is it like then?”

Alice turned around on the bench. “I’m terribly in love with someone.”

Mrs. Williams’ gaze softened. “And is he terribly in love with you?” 

“Yes.”

She leaned forward and patted her daughter’s hand. “That doesn’t sound like a problem so far.”

Alice looked down at the flowered carpet. “I don’t think he’s going to ask me to marry him.”

“Why not?” Mrs. Williams lifted Alice’s chin. “He’s not married already, is he?”

“No.”

“Broke?”

“Not at all.”

“Insanity in the family?” she asked, eyes twinkling.

Alice’s eyes held a matching sparkle. “None that I know of.”

“Well then, he’s just got cold feet,” Mrs. Williams declared, spreading upturned hands. “Men usually do. Why, your father had the coldest feet of any man I ever knew.”

“He did?”

“Like blocks of ice. But once I decided he was the one for me”—she snapped her fingers—“it was only a matter of time. We were married a month later. If you’ve decided he’s the young man for you, you’ll be engaged before you know it.”

Alice turned back to her dressing table. “I hope you’re right.”

“Of course, I am.” She looked at her daughter sharply. “He didn’t offer you another sort of arrangement?”

Alice shook her head. “He flat out refused to,” she said and laughed at her mother’s gasp. 

Mrs. Williams rolled her eyes. “Does this reluctant but honorable Romeo have a name?”

“Yes, but I’m not sure how you’ll take it,” Alice said.

Her mother’s smile faltered. “Not that boy who left Winfield to become a saxophone player.”

“Hardly.”

“Well, that’s a relief. So who is it then? One of those young men you run around with?”

“Mother, I don’t run around with them.” She stood up and dropped her robe onto the bench.

“Go around with then. Don’t be so touchy. Is it Sam Dalton?”

Alice went to the other side of the bed. “Cold,” she said, picking up a black crepe evening gown. 

“Hmm. Richard Bradley?”

“Warmer.”

Mrs. Williams tapped her cheek. “Not, Sam, not Richard. Well, it couldn’t be Rudy McAlister. You told me Gladys had her eye on him.” She watched her daughter step into her gown. “Say, do I even know this paragon?”

“Probably not.”

“Then why are you making me sit here and guess. Who is it?”

Alice was silent for a few moments as she adjusted the gown’s shoulder straps. Then she took a deep breath and met her mother’s eyes. “Jonathan Bradley, Richard’s father.”

Mrs. Williams’ jaw dropped, and her cheeks paled. She stood up, her hands clasped tightly together, and closed her eyes for a moment. “Did you say Richard’s father?”

“Yes.”

Mrs. Williams opened her eyes. “And how did this come about?” she asked calmly.

Alice circled the bed and threw her arms around her. “Oh, Mother, you’re an angel.”

“Now let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I don’t feel like an angel at the moment.” She squeezed her daughter’s arms, then gently removed them from her neck. “I’m simply trying to react better than your grandmother did when I told her of my own marriage plans.” She dropped onto the bench and began to fasten the side of Alice’s gown.

“What are you thinking?” Alice asked hesitantly. 

“That I never anticipated having a son-in-law older than me.”

“Jon said as much.”

“He’s got some good sense, anyway.”

Alice bent over and rested her cheek on her mother’s hair. “We didn’t mean for it to happen. One minute neither of us knew the other existed. Then we met, and…”

“You couldn’t imagine a world without him.”

“Or he without me.”

Mrs. Williams sighed. “This all sounds horribly familiar. Love at first sight?”

“Yes.”

She patted her daughter’s arm. “I was afraid you’d say that.”

Alice straightened and looked down, her brown eyes shining hopefully. “Is that how it was with you and Father?”

“Exactly that way. The first moment I saw him I felt like I’d been struck by a thunderbolt.” She smiled reminiscently. “He felt it too, although it took a while to get him to admit it.”

Mrs. Williams rose and hugged her daughter. “If you feel about Jonathan Bradley the way I feel about your father, then I guess I’d better give you my blessing.”

“Oh, thank you, Mother,” Alice breathed. “Jon’s been very worried about what you both would think.”

“Before you get too excited,” Mrs. Williams said, leaning back, “remember that my blessing will be much easier to get than your Father’s. I’m the sentimental type. Your Father’s not.”

“But you can win him over, Mother. I know you can.” Alice looked at the clock on her dressing table. “Oh, I’ve got to run. My ride will be here any minute.”

“Well, I like that. Dumping your problems in my lap and dashing off.”

“You said you’d help me solve it.”

“I did, didn’t I? He’ll be hard to convince, but I guess I can manage it.” She held her daughter’s face. “I do wish you every happiness.”

“Thank you, Mother. If you can wish Jon into proposing, I’ll have it.”

<>-<>-<>

Mrs. Williams folded her knitting and slid it into its bag. “Charles, dearest, I thought we might retire early tonight.”

Mr. Williams, sitting beside her on the sofa, continued to read his newspaper. “If you like, dear. Goodnight.”

She smiled and shook her head, then ran her fingers over the gray hair at his temple. “I meant retire early together.”

“All right, Leona,” he said, folding his paper. “What’s going on?”

“Whatever do you mean? Don’t you want to spend time with me?”

“Of course, I do.” His brows quirked. “But I’m usually the one who suggests it. When you propose we retire early, there’s an ulterior reason.”

She lifted her chin. “I like that. What about Tuesday?”

“All right, all right. Tuesday excepted.” He stood up and held out his arm, a warm gleam in his eye. With an answering smile, Mrs. Williams rose and accepted it. Together they put out the lights and strolled upstairs. 

He paused on the landing. “There is something going on. I can sense it. What’s happened?”

“Nothing yet, dearest. Alice told me tonight she’s in love and wants to be married.”

He stroked his chin. “She does, does she? Well, that’s not too bad.”

“No, not bad at all. It’s just made me sentimental.” She looked at the framed wedding portrait which hung on the wall. “How handsome you were that day. How strong and vital.” She touched his cheek. “You still are.”

“And you are just as beautiful.” He kissed her lightly, then squeezed her waist. “And just as managing.”

They continued up the last flight. “Alice isn’t in love with that saxophone player, is she?”

“No, dearest, I believe he works in a bank.”

“A respectable profession. Does this fellow have a name?”

They entered their bedroom. “Wouldn’t you rather talk about it in the morning?” Mrs. Williams asked. She removed her husband’s glasses and nudged the door closed with her foot. 

“Yes, dear,” Charles murmured as the band of light beneath the door went out.

<>-<>-<>

The bandleader addressed the microphone, reminding the radio audience where the music was broadcast from and enticing them to come join the sophisticated throng.

Out on the nightclub’s roof deck, diners enjoyed a respite from the warmth and noise. Richard lit his father’s cigarette, then his own, and blew smoke rings up into the dark city sky. “Well, Pop, what do you think?”

Jonathan leaned on the parapet and looked out over the sparkling skyline. “I think they’re very charming young ladies.”

“You mean you haven’t figured it out? I was sure you’d have guessed by now.”

“You know, this would be easier if you would tell me which one you’re in love with.”

Richard flicked ash into the night. “I thought it would be obvious. She’s only the most beautiful girl in the room.”

Jonathan turned and looked into the club, past the tables to the dance floor, where Alice swayed in Rudy’s arms. “When a man is in love, he only has eyes for one woman.”

Richard followed his gaze. “Well, she’s definitely the most heavenly dancer.”

“I partnered each one, and I thought they were all fine dancers.”

“She also kisses like an angel.” Richard laughed and clapped his father’s back. “I guess only I’d know about that.”

Jonathan coughed and extinguished his cigarette in a nearby ashtray. “When do you plan to propose?”

“Once I’m sure where I stand. I’m not the only guy in the running.”

“You aren’t?” Jonathan asked sharply.

“With this caliber of a girl, how could I be? Someone’s been making up to her pretty seriously, I think.”

“Do you know who it is?”

“Nope. She won’t say, either. But it doesn’t matter. In the end she’s going to be Mrs. Bradley.”

Jonathan looked away from his son’s confident smile and back to the dance floor. The song had ended, and Alice headed in their direction. “What if this someone else is in better standing?”

“Hey, you’re not betting on the other guy, are you?”

“Not at all. Call it an academic question.”

Richard’s face sobered. “I don’t know what I’d do if she was in love with someone else. Shoot him, probably.” He laughed. “How’s that for melodrama?”

Jonathan chuckled with false heartiness as Alice stepped outside. 

“Hello, beautiful,” Richard called, his eyes scanning her with admiration. The asymmetrical gown draped gracefully over her lithe figure, the waist caught up by a spray of flowers in purple velvet.

Alice joined them and pressed a hand to her temple. “Dick, I’m not going on to the Carey’s with everyone. I have a terrible headache.”

“Oh, no.” Richard took her by the arm and sat her on a bench. “It’s probably the heat in there. Some fresh air and an aspirin, and you’ll be good as new.” 

He looked at his father for support. Jonathan put his hands in his pockets. “I’ll see about getting some.”

“That’s not necessary,” Alice said, her gaze lighting on Jonathan then flitting away. “It won’t work on this kind.”

Richard settled on the bench beside her. “But we’re going to play Truth, remember? You can’t miss that.” He nudged her gently with his elbow. “Especially the questions I plan to ask.”

Alice shook her head, then winced and shut her eyes.

Richard squeezed her hand. “Poor kid. I’ll take you home.”

“No, this is your celebration,” she responded. “Rudy said he’d take me.”

“Alone with Rudy in a taxi? I should say not. You aren’t in fighting form.” Richard turned to his father. “Say, Pop, you were heading out soon. Would you see Alice home?”

“Of course,” Jonathan said, staring at the hand which held Alice’s. “That is, if the lady doesn’t object.”

“Object? She’s too polite to show it, but inside she’s thanking her lucky stars.”

Alice raised her gaze to Jonathan, and her eyes softened.

“You see?” Richard said. “You know what we called ol’ Rudy up at college? The Octopus. She’ll be much safer with you.”

<>-<>-<>

“What did they call you in college?” Alice inquired as she smoothed her disordered hair. 

Jonathan leaned back against the seat of their taxi cab and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I think your headache is catching.”

“Really? Mine’s much better now.” She snuggled against his arm. “Should we tell the driver once more around the park?”

“No, I need to go home and finish packing.”

She stiffened. “Packing? What for?”

“I’m going to California tomorrow. Bank business.”

She observed his set profile in the glow of the passing street lamps. “That’s very sudden. Will you be gone long?”

“Long enough for you to forget me.”

She sat upright. “Jon, I thought we’d been through all that,” she exclaimed, shifting on the seat to face him.

“It’s no use,” he said with a resigned shrug. “You’re the one Richard’s in love with.”

“He told you?” 

With a flick of his hand, he waved the question aside. “He didn’t need to. I saw the way he treated you tonight.” 

“Dick treats all the girls like that. He’s an incorrigible flirt with the heart of a gentleman.” 

“He’d like to kill the man who tried to take you away from him,” Jonathan said dazedly. “Can you imagine the headline? ‘Son Shoots Father in Society Love Triangle.’”

Alice grasped his upper arm and shook it. “Jon, you’re being ridiculous.”

“I know. I’ve spent weeks being ridiculous, thinking this would work.” He wiped his hand down his face. “We were lunatics after all.”

“You’re tired and overwrought,” she said, caressing his cheek with the back of her fingers. “Things won’t look so bad in the morning.”

He brushed his lips across her knuckles, then returned her hand to her lap. “Tomorrow I won’t think any differently.”

“Well, neither will I. I’ll be at your office at noon.”

“I’ll be gone by then.”

“Then I’ll follow you to California.”

“Still stubborn,” he murmured, a vestige of affection in his voice. He looked at her, his face grim, his dark eyes shuttered. “Promise me you won’t be stubborn about this. Don’t waste any more time on an old fool.” 

Jonathan swung his gaze to the window. Alice stretched out her hand toward him, then let it fall. “Perhaps I’ll go away too,” she said, leaning back into her corner of the taxi. She toyed with the velvet flowers at her waist. “A few months in Europe. That’s what girls in the movies do to get over an unhappy love affair.”

He flinched. “Europe is an excellent idea. You’ll be so busy you won’t have time to think about me. And when you come home, these weeks will seem like a hazy dream.”

“Will California do that for you?”

“It will be a start. Time will do the rest. Then in a little while, things will be just as they were before…for us and for Richard.”

She gave a scoffing exhalation. “Not for me. If I go to Europe, I’ll be looking to bring back a souvenir. They say there’s nothing like Continental charm and an old family title.”

The hand on his leg clenched, then flattened. “So you might. If not, you’ll meet someone when you return to New York. There are plenty of fine, upstanding young men in your circle.”

“I’ve had enough of that crowd. I’d rather fall in love with a saxophone player.”

“As you like.”

“No, I don’t like. Not at all.” Abandoning her hollow taunts, she leaned forward, her voice low and imploring. “Jon, listen to me, please. I love you. I’ll never love anyone as much as I do you. We have something that many people wish for their whole lives and never find. We can’t just throw that away.” 

He swallowed. “It feels that way because you’re young. When you reach my age, you’ll see things differently.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “So that’s it. ‘Thank you, miss, for the use of your heart. I return it to you now, cleaned, polished, and ready for the next fellow.’” 

Her words ended on a sob. Jonathan turned to her, his own eyes glinting with moisture. “Alice, please.”

“‘Never mind the damage, miss. That’s just normal wear and tear.’” She tapped on the glass partition and signaled the driver.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting off this buggy ride.”

The taxi drew up to the curb. Alice climbed past Jonathan, twisting away from his restraining hands. Her purple flowers tore off in his grasp as she staggered onto the sidewalk.

“Something to remember me by, Mr. Bradley.” She slammed the door and disappeared into the crowd. 

<>-<>-<>

Jonathan stood by the reflecting pool, a smoking jacket over his white dress shirt. The velvet flowers in his hand were black in the moonlight. He expelled a column of smoke, then pressed the spray to his nose and inhaled the faint perfume. 

The moon, full and dazzlingly bright, shone up at him from the still waters. “You again,” Jonathan muttered. “Haven’t you done enough?”

He raised the flowers above his shoulder and paused. With a groan, he thrust them into his pocket and flicked the fingers of his other hand. The cigarette found its mark, shattering the silver orb into rippling fragments. He turned his back on it and strode across the flagstones, up the terrace steps, and into the house. 

As he returned to his study, he found Richard perched on the edge of his desk. “Hello, son. You’re earlier than I…” His voice failed as Richard held up a small photograph that had been left on the leather mat.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Richard asked sternly.

Jonathan paled. “I can explain.”

“Have you been stepping out with Alice behind my back?”

“No, it’s not like that at all.”

Richard tossed the picture onto the desk. “Then I wish you’d tell me what it is like. Alice isn’t the type of girl to write something like that unless she meant it.”

“She does mean it.” Jonathan inhaled deeply and squared his shoulders. “Son, I’m in love with her.”

Richard buried his face in his hand. 

Jonathan drew closer and touched his son’s shaking back. “Dick, I’m sorry,” he breathed.

Richard looked up, tears on his cheeks. “Oh, Pop,” he said, his voice choked, “when you bust out, you don’t do it by halves.”

Jonathan’s jaw dropped. “Son, are you laughing?”

“Uh-huh,” he said, wiping his eyes.

“Then you’re not angry with me?”

“Angry? It’s the second best thing I’ve heard all day.” Richard stopped chuckling and folded his arms across his chest. “Now, young man, are your intentions honorable?”

“Entirely. I want Alice to be my wife.”

“That’s jake,” he declared, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement. “I think I’ll call her Mater.”

“You really don’t mind, son?”

“If she can take it, I can. When will you ask her?”

“I don’t quite know,” Jonathan replied, massaging his earlobe. “We had a rather sharp disagreement when I was taking her home.”

Richard squeezed his father’s shoulder. “You two crazy kids will work it out. Then Winchell can say, ‘Father and Son Welded to Sorority Sisters.’” 

“What do you mean?”

“That’s what I came to tell you.” He stepped back and paced excitedly. “Pop, tonight when Connie looked up at me with those heavenly eyes, I couldn’t help myself. I threw caution to the wind and proposed to her right there on the dance floor. And guess what she replied.”

“‘Yes,’ I gather.”

“Nope. She said, ‘What took you so long?’” He laughed. “Can you beat that? I told you she was a peach.”

“I’m very happy for you, son,” Jonathan said, extending his hand.

Richard pumped it energetically. “Thanks. I’m happy for you too.” He looked at his watch. “Yikes, is that the time? I left Connie waiting in the taxi. We’re off to tell her folks next.”

Jonathan walked with his son into the hall. “Well, bring her in, if only for a few minutes. I’d like to welcome her to the family.” 

“And I’d like to break the news about her mother-in-law.” He clapped his father on the back. “Oh, Pop, you really are too much.”

<>-<>-<>

Jonathan met his manservant on the staircase. “Awake at this hour, Farrell?”

“Yes, sir,” he said and coughed behind his hand. “I had neglected to check the upstairs windows. Mr. Richard has an unfortunate tendency to leave them open.”

“I see. Well, before you retire, call a taxi for me. I’m going back out.” 

“Very good, sir.”

After jogging up a few more steps, Jonathan paused. “You and Mrs. Farrell like Miss Williams, don’t you?” he asked casually.

The hint of a smile curved Farrell’s lips. “Miss Williams is a charming lady, sir, whose presence is most welcome”—he cleared his throat—“at any hour.”

Jonathan peered at his servant’s austere features, then continued up the stairs to his bedroom. The curtains were open, and the room was dimly lit by silver moonlight. As he entered, his foot struck something. A black evening pump lay on the carpet, its mate a few inches away. He reached for the lamp and switched it on, his gaze moving across the floor. It passed over a cape of velvet chiffon lined in purple and came to rest on the armchair, which was draped with a black crepe gown and silk lingerie.

He spun to face the bed. “Alice,” he exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

Alice lay under the coverlet, her back propped against a stack of pillows. “Proposing,” she replied.

She adjusted his dressing gown, which had slipped from one naked shoulder. His dark brows raised. “Just what sort of proposition is it?”

She blushed and lifted her chin. “Marriage, of course.”

“Oh, of course. Have you a shotgun in there?” he asked, running his eyes over the blue sateen which enshrouded her long legs.

“No,” she replied, her color deepening. “I’m bare-handed.”

“That’s equally effective.” He massaged his earlobe. “I might have known you’d be stubborn.”

“If you’ll only listen, you’ll see what a reasonable solution this is.”

He went to the armchair and moved her lace-edged chemise aside. “I find it difficult to think coherently at the moment.”

“It’s quite simple,” she continued as he settled in the chair. “If Dick is in love with me, this is a guaranteed cure. He’ll get tight for a week, then wonder what he ever saw in such a shameless hussy.”

Jonathan frowned. “I don’t want him thinking that about you.”

“But if he believes you were trapped by a gold-digger, he couldn’t be mad at you. He’ll have nothing but sympathy.” 

“Perhaps.” Jonathan straightened in alarm. “Your father isn’t about to burst in here, is he?”

“Good golly, no,” she said, pulling the coverlet higher. “Why would he?”

Jonathan relaxed. “Someone has to discover us in this compromising position. That’s how these things work.”

“Farrell knows I’m here.”

“I thought he might,” Jonathan said dryly. “But Farrell won’t do. A good manservant overlooks his employer’s indiscretions.”

“Oh,” Alice said, nonplussed. “Surely Mrs. Farrell wouldn’t?”

“No, I think outraged womanhood would carry the day. But Mrs. Farrell has retired by now, and she’s a very sound sleeper.” Jonathan stood up and unbuttoned his smoking jacket. “I suppose the matter will have to wait until breakfast.”

“What?” Alice squeaked as he slipped his arms from the brocade.

He laid the jacket atop her discarded gown and crossed to the end of the bed. “Of course, we’ll need some excuse or other to get her up here. Fortunately we have the rest of the night together to think of one.” He lifted a set of luridly striped pajamas from the coverlet. “The top for you, the bottoms for me. How does that sound?”

Alice clutched the lapels of his robe together. “Jonathan,” she said in stunned tones.

“The colors are awful, I know, but I wasn’t expecting company.” He hung the pajamas over his arm. “Is that the side of the bed you prefer?”

“Aren’t you going to sleep over there?” She pointed to the long, low sofa against the wall.

“Now you’re the one not thinking coherently. It won’t look very convincing if I’m discovered on the divan. No, it has to be the bed for both of us.”

She sat up and looked at him with narrowed eyes. “What’s going on?”

“What do you mean, dear?”

“After your behavior today, I expected much more resistance.” 

The lapels of his dressing gown were no longer secured. Jonathan considered the plunging décolletage, his lips twitching. “You made a persuasive argument.” 

Alice threw off the covers and left the bed. Jonathan held out the pajama top as she approached.

“No, thank you,” she said loftily.

“A naturist, are you?” He tsked. “Mrs. Farrell will be doubly shocked.”

She prodded his chest. “Jon, you’re laughing at me.”

He captured her hand. “Not at all. If I seemed to be, it’s only that I’ve been trying very hard not to do this.” He pulled her into his embrace. The warm amusement in his dark eyes took flame, and his lips met hers in a searing kiss. 

The clock in the hall struck the hour. Jonathan stepped back. “Now go get dressed. Our guests will be here soon.”

“Guests? Now?”

“Yes, we’re going to have a celebration. You saved me the trouble of finding you. Richard and Connie are rounding up the rest of the crowd.” He smiled. “That is, after they’ve finished telling her parents their news.”

Alice gasped and threw her arms around his neck. “Now you don’t have to go to California.”

Jonathan hoisted her up until her face hovered above his. “I still have business to do there, but I’ll be taking my wife with me.”

Their lips found each other once more, and a pair of luridly striped pajamas fell to the carpet unnoticed.

<>-<>-<>

Richard shook a crease from the newspaper and continued to read aloud. “‘Mr. Jonathan Bradley was accompanied by his wife, the former Alice Williams of Manhattan. The bride and groom met at Winfield College, where the two Mrs. Bradleys were members of the same sorority.’” He laughed. “I think that’s the best thing I ever read.”

He set the paper down beside his plate of eggs and went to the telephone, where he asked the hotel operator for a number.

Connie looked at him over her coffee cup. “What are you doing?”

“Calling Pop. I want to razz him about the article.” He returned his attention to the telephone. “Hello, Farrell. May I speak to my father, please?”

His bride joined him as he waited, and he wrapped his free arm around her waist. “In conference?” he said after a minute. He rested the handset against his chest. “That’s funny. Pop always has breakfast at this time. I wonder what goes on.”

Connie hung up the receiver. “Darling, if you can’t figure that out on your own,” she purred, pulling his head down to hers, “let me clue you in.” 

<>-<>-<>

Jonathan nuzzled his wife’s hair. “How long have you known?”

“Since last week,” she answered, her face glowing softly. They sat at the garden table, a quarter moon hanging pale and ethereal above them in the blue morning sky.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“There was the wedding to think of. Connie and Richard deserved to have all the attention.”

“You’re a darling,” he said and kissed her forehead. “Are you certain you feel well?”

She smiled in fond amusement. “For the third time, yes. Other than a slight aversion to breakfast, I’m perfectly well.”

“You’ll have to grow accustomed to me asking you that, I’m afraid.” He chuckled. “Wait until we tell the Farrells. She’ll have more advice than the Drs. Sadler put together.”

“She already knows.”

“You told her?” he asked, looking crestfallen.

Alice shook her head. “A few days of uneaten eggs did. She hasn’t said a word yet, but yesterday I found her coming down from the attic with a box of baby bottles.”

He smiled. “Richard’s. She always hoped he’d have a little brother or sister. So did he.”

“Where are you going?” she asked as he started to lift her from his lap. 

“To call and tell him he got his wish. The timing will appeal to his sense of humor.”

Alice clasped his neck more firmly. “Jon, dear, he’s on his honeymoon.”

“So he is. That slipped my mind for a moment. Well, I suppose our news will keep, eh, little mother?”

He kissed her tenderly, and she rested her head on his shoulder.

“You know,” she said, “they might have some news of their own soon.”

Jonathan’s dark eyes widened. He threw his head back and laughed. “I can hear Winchell already. Blessed events, indeed.”

**Author's Note:**

>  **The Players**  
>  Jean Muir as _Alice_  
>  Lewis Stone as _Jonathan_  
>  Robert Cummings as _Richard_  
>  Frank McHugh as _Rudy_  
>  Glenda Farrell as _Gladys_  
>  Elizabeth Allan as _Connie_  
>  Ruth Donnelly as _Miss Prescott_  
>  Melville Cooper as _Farrell_  
>  Aline MacMahon as _Mrs. Williams_  
>  John Halliday as _Mr. Williams_  
>  Cora Witherspoon as _Eudora Hazelwood_  
>  Charles Winninger as _Waldo P. Hazelwood_


End file.
